Read Three Little Words Online
Authors: Lauren Hawkeye
I wanted the thong gone, replaced with my tongue. Or my fingers. Or my cock.
Raising an eyebrow at me, she slowly danced her fingers over my belt buckle, working the studded leather through my belt loops.
“How much are you willing to give me?” She asked, raising one eyebrow as she made a loop with the belt. Sweet Jesus, the woman was made for me.Though I wanted to grab her and thrust between her thighs, I forced myself to stay still, just watching.
Waiting.
Nodding with satisfaction, she threaded my belt through a metal ring on the sole remaining speaker in the van. Catching my wrists in one of her hands, she pulled my arms over my head, then looped the leather around my hands.
My breath caught; I’d never much fancied the idea of being restrained, but she needed this.
Because of that, the act was fucking
hot
.
She secured my wrists to the speaker snugly, slid a finger between the leather and my skin to make sure it wasn’t too tight, then placed her palms flat on my bare chest and smirked at me.
“What do you think?” Her expression was teasing, but I could hear the serious tone beneath. For some reason she needed this, needed me restrained so she could be in complete control.
At that moment she could have asked to shove a dildo up my ass and spank me with a wooden paddle and I would have been game.
“I think you’re a very kinky girl, and I like it. But I’ll be remembering this. Once I’m free, I might have to warm your ass with the palm of my hand again, for being so presumptuous.” My grin vanished in a blast of heat when Adele undid the button at the waist of my jeans, then slowly slid the zipper down. My cock sprang forward, trying to make an escape for freedom.
“You’re a briefs man, hmm?” Those talented fingers spread over my abdomen, stroked over my hipbones, made my belly quiver.
“I was an underwear model in my former life.” I grinned cheekily up at her, a show of bravado as she eased my jeans down my hips.
Her fingers brushed over my cotton clad cock and it jerked in response.
I needed to be inside of her,
now
, delayed gratification be damned.
“I like these.” She slid her thumbs inside the elastic at the tops of my legs, rubbed over the crease that divided my legs from my pelvis.
I started trying to count backward from ten in my head. Anything to stave off the imminent explosion.
When Adele lowered the briefs, tugging them off of me along with my pants, I pulled against my restraints for the first time, stunned at how powerful I felt even while restrained. I wanted to fill my hands with the sweet curves of her ass, wanted to pull her down to me so that I could suck those ripe nipples into my mouth.
“Fuck.” I cursed through the pleasure/ pain when she wrapped her hand around my shaft, rubbed up and down.
“I can’t go slow, Dorian.” Adele stared down at me with wide eyes. “Not this time. I need to just...
to just do it. Is that okay?”
Was that okay?
She was the woman of my dreams.
“I told you. Whatever you need. Always.” By now I was pulling against the restraints without meaning to, my body surging to get closer to hers. I nodded towards where my jeans were heaped in a graceless pile. “Condom in the back pocket.”
She nodded, flushed, and retrieved the foil packet. Once she’d ripped it open and again straddled my hips, I watched her look at my bound hands, then my jutting cock, and her blush darkened.
“You’re going to have to do it for me, love.” I had trouble forming the words, not when I was so close to being inside of her. “Pinch the tip, then roll it down my cock.”
A small shudder passed over her. Sucking her lower lip into her mouth as she concentrated, Adele did as I told her.
My eyes rolled back in my head when she smoothed the sheath of latex down my shaft.
The woman had wicked fingers.
“I might not be very good at this.” Adele whispered as she moved forward. With my cock still clasped in her hand, she rubbed the head of my erection against the silky lace of her thong, purring with pleasure at the contact.
I could barely form any words. I was a whisper away from heaven.
“Baby, you are plenty good at this.” It took everything I had not to buck my hips upwards, to force our joining. Mostly, when I had vanilla sex with a woman, it was a means to take the edge off, without the wicked edge of pleasure that props and role playing could bring.
But thought this was still a fairly sweet scene in terms of my experience, I’d never been more aroused in my life.
Bending my knees, I placed my feet flat on the floor, giving her something to lean back again.
My muscles tightened with tension, with need, but still I remained still.
With the hand not holding my shaft, Adele hooked a finger in her thong and pulled it to the side.
Pressing the head of my erection against her wet heat, she slowly took me inside of her.
“Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck.” The words exploded from my mouth as she sank down until my balls pressed against the sweet curves of her ass. She jolted, surprised at my outburst, and I forced my lips into a delirious smile.
“You just feel so fucking good. So wet, so hot. So fucking tight.” Without even meaning to, my pelvis pressed upwards, the ridge of my cock rubbing against her clit, and she cried out, the sound one of the sweetest things I’d ever heard.
“If I could, I’d rub my thumb over your clit and make you come right now,” I forced out from between gritted teeth. “But you’re going to have to do it yourself. To bring yourself pleasure, since you’ve taken away my ability to do it for you. And I’m going to love watching.”
Her blush spread lower, and I watched with fascination as the pink travelled to her breasts.
She was silent, but her eyes were on me as she rocked back and forth on my cock a few times, then slowly, hesitantly lowered her hand between her legs.
“That’s it, baby.” I growled. She whimpered as she moved against me, as her finger moved faster, then faster still, over that hard bundle of nerves.
Her pussy gave my cock long, liquid strokes that had me racing toward my own climax. I tensed every muscle that I had until it hurt, determined to hold off my own release until she’d had hers.
If this was vanilla sex, then I’d found my new favorite flavor.
“Oh. Dorian.” Having me bound seemed to relax her, and soon the hand not playing between her legs fisted in the wild waves of her hair. Her back bowed, and I was riveted by the sight of her breasts, the rosy tips tightly contracted and peeking from the red satin of her bra, the heavy fullness spilling over the top and jiggling in a way that made lightning bolts of sensation shoot up my cock.
“That’s it,” I muttered, my mouth watering with the need to taste her. “Come all over my cock.
Wreck yourself. It’s all for you.”
“I’m going to... oh God!” The words echoed through the small space as her fingers stilled, her hips pressed into mine, and she ground herself down against me, her body tightening as the climax washed over her.
She panted through one wave, then two. Only once her hands came down to grip my hips, when I saw the determined look in her eye that told me she intended to take me with her, did I finally allow myself to move, to slam my hips up against her, to let the wild climax that had been building at the base of my spine finally explode.
I came harder than I ever had before, shooting my heat into this fucking perfect girl, and for the first time in my life the stars aligned and everything seemed absolutely fucking perfect.
As the shudders wracking both of us began to finally subside, as she fumbled to release my hands, then laid down on top of me, my cock still inside of her, I knew one thing with complete clarity.
If I had to share Adele in order to have her, then sharing was exactly what I would do.
I was completely unraveled. I felt as though I’d died, my soul torn to shreds, the tattered pieces re-knit in a new way as I’d come back to life.
A better way. A way that left me more whole, even though the seams joining the pieces—the scars —would never go away.
My breasts pressed into Dorian’s chest as I lay down on top of him, the nipples still sensitive and tight. My ear rested above his heart, and I could hear his pulse slowing down from the frenetic rhythm that had driven us both.
Being here, with Dorian and his kinky ways, felt so incredibly right, every bit as right as being with Mal the night before had been.
I refused to feel guilty. They both knew the score.
Even if I didn’t.
A happy sigh escaped my lips as Dorian sat up, settling me across his lap. His fingers danced down my spine, then began to trace over my tattoos. As I had with Mal, I stiffened a bit, readying myself to explain why I’d chosen to ink myself the way I had.
“”Ravens,” he said thoughtfully. I turned my head a bit, craning my neck to see his own tattoos, the dark tribal swirls on his arms, wondering what they meant.
“Sign of tomorrow, right?” Bending, he pressed a kiss to the biggest bird in the flock, the first one I’d had inked, and the most painful, located as it was directly over my spine.
I shivered. Dorian was so open, I wanted to tell him all about what had happened to me, about why I’d needed the visual reminder that tomorrow was always a new day.
I couldn’t. I didn’t want to see that look in his eyes. My intellect knew that he wasn’t like the rest, that he wasn’t going to suddenly see me as a freak, but the need to hide my pain was deeply ingrained in me by that point.
“I can’t talk about it yet,” I said softly, knowing he would understand what I was talking about.
His hand stroked over my back again, all the way down the crease that divided my buttocks. I shivered, my angst melting into pure pleasure as he slid a finger lightly through that dark space.
“My sister is a whore.”
What?
I tensed instantly, the word he’d chosen strike a chord deep within me. Anger filled me as I rolled off his lap and knelt in front of him.
He nodded, acknowledging my expression as if I’d given him a piece to the puzzle that was me, then continued.
“No, Adele. She is literally a whore.” The darkness in his eyes told me that he wasn’t joking. “She got into drugs when we were still in high school. Crack. Meth. Got into hooking to fund her habit. Last time I saw her, she told me to go fuck myself. She has no interest in changing her lifestyle, no matter how much she’s hurting the people who care about her.”
My lips parted to say something, then closed again.
What was I supposed to say?
“Why are you telling me this?” I finally asked. I wanted to reach out and take his hand, but I didn’t know how.
As if he’d read my mind, he took mine, lifting my hand to press a kiss into the cup of my palm.
“When I was a kid I did some drugs myself. Pot, shrooms, nothing too serious. But where I decided to stop, those drugs acted like a gateway for Kylie.” His voice was contemplative and light, but I heard the note of pain deep within. “So in a way, it’s my fault that she is who she is today.”
“But ultimately she is her own person and made the choices that led her where she is today, that hurt so many other people along the way. I could choose to wallow in my part in it all, but I’ve tried to move on with my life. Even though I do find I have a need for control that I didn’t have before.”
Smirking, he ran his fingers over my lips.
I swallowed thickly, overwhelmed.
“We all have baggage,” he continued, reaching for my discarded shirt and helping me smooth it over my head. “We all have shit in our pasts. But if we want to survive, we have to be like those ravens, always looking towards tomorrow.”
I was speechless as he leaned forward and pressed a light kiss that still managed to be full of wicked promise to my lips.
I was on the verge of baring my soul to him, of turning myself inside out just to rid myself of some of the darkness inside of me.
Almost. Almost, but not quite.
“And we have no more time for pillow talk.” He watched, not bothering to disguise his interest as I straightened my embarrassingly damp thong, pulled my tights back up.
They would go in the garbage once I got home—they were ruined—but it was too cold outside to wear my shorts with bare legs. The rip wouldn’t show, even if I would know that it was there.
Dorian playfully copped a feel of my ass as he opened the back doors to the van, and I giggled, surprising myself—I wasn’t a giggling kind of girl. I blinked as the metal screeched open, disoriented by the fact that it had been light when we’d entered our little love cave, and now the sun had sunk beyond the horizon.
The air smelled of autumn, of crisp apples and wood smoke.
It was perfect.
A loud purring sound drew my gaze downward. There, on top of Dorian’s bright green Converse shoe, was an orange tabby cat.
“What the fuck?” Dorian raked a hand through the golden spikes of his hair, then flapped his arms, trying to get the cat to shoo. “Damn puss was hanging around me earlier. Kept wanting to snuggle.”